Olive I. Clark

(Waynesboro, Virginia)

Hurricane Fran

Poem by Olive I. Clark

Arrogant, unpredictable, ruthless and strong,
Long before daylight, she blasted along;
Uninvited, indeed, was she to our town,
But that had no way of slowing her down.
They called her Fran, too friendly a name,
For this errant, defiant, hurricane dame!

She plunged on forward, then pulled the plug,
Of her big, invisible, inexhaustible jug.
Down came the rain, in torrents, no less;
Drenched were we, no chance for redress.
Water, more water, with no place to go,
The onset of floods to add to our woe!

Then grasping the winds, she flung them about,
Like a child with toys, when he's in a pout.
Heedless of all the havoc they'd cause,
Caring not what the damage or loss;
Tall trees toppled by the brunt of the blow,
Venting their wrath on whate'er lay below.

Not a tear did we shed, as we bade Fran adieu,
Then knuckled right down, the hard work to do.

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Read poems about / on: loss, water, work, rain, child, children, tree, wind

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003

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